


Oh Holy Night

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Christmas, K/S Advent, M/M, Shore Leave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:10:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew of the Enterprise beams down to the infamous 'Shore Leave Planet' where they create a wonderful holiday celebration.  After the party, nearly everyone pairs off with someone special.  Jim Kirk puts in a request to the guardians to spend a night with his first officer (or at least, a simulated version).  Written for K/S Advent 2011.   Kirk/Spock, rated NC-17</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Holy Night

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: For this fic to make sense--it is helpful to have watched Star Trek: The Original Series ep: "Shore Leave", however it's perfectly possible to enjoy this without it, just wiki the plot of "Shore Leave". This fic takes place three years later.

Tonight was proving to be one gigantic, happy, fantastic, gorgeous holiday shindig.

It was shore leave for the most of the Enterprise crew, many of them present at the party. They didn’t have to be here-- some weren’t, preferring to go off on their own adventures-- but there was a great turn out.

Omicron Delta II, known as the ‘Shore Leave Planet’ or the ‘Amusement Park Planet’ had originally been a well kept secret. However the guardians had recently relaxed their privacy laws and it was now known to the entire Federation as the premiere place to party—featured in plenty of advertisements. The planet had become an extremely lucrative business. Visiting starships and civilian cruisers were now required to go on a waiting list for a chance to orbit, it becoming so popular that there was now a lottery system. Somehow the USS Enterprise had managed to nab the Christmas Eve slot and everyone was thrilled at their luck. And as long as you were careful—signing a release PADD— avoiding any negative thoughts while planetside, they could all have a magical time provided by the planet’s guardians.

All present had pooled their wishes/heartfelt desires together to come up with this holiday celebration with a distinctly international flavor. Jim Kirk himself had never seen such a display. Everyone was attired in the tackiest Christmas, Yultide, Winter scened, Hanukkah sweaters they could conjure up. A huge, real pine Christmas tree decorated with candles and ornaments sat in the corner of the drawing room in the three storied American Georgia, southern style mansion. Decorations abounded. Victorian attired Christmas carolers stood in another corner, singing: 'Oh Holy Night' among other songs--but that one in particular was Jim's favorite. An exquisite oil burning Menorah shone brightly, courtesy of Pavel Chekov, a Russian Jew. Pavel had taught everyone how to sing the blessing and they’d all sung while he’d lit it. There was a yule log. Plenty of booze: spiked eggnog, mulled wine, regular wine, imported beers and ales, Russian vodka, whisky and bourbon. All kinds of international food and sweets were displayed on an exquisitely decorated table. It was of course, snowing outside, people were out there in hats and gloves and coats, making snow angels and snowmen (or women). Even Jim and Bones had been out there earlier, having a vicious snowball fight.

You name it. There. Was. Everything.

Mindful of the warning to think only pleasant thoughts, and quite aware of the consequences, Jim couldn’t help remembering that one horrible instant when Bones had been impaled through the chest by a knight on horseback on their first visit. Killing him instantly, or so they thought. Luckily the good doctor had come back to the surface very much alive and well, escorted by two curvy simulated ‘Rigelian caberet girls’.

“Did it hurt, Bones?” Jim asked McCoy earlier in the evening when the good doctor had still been reasonably sober.

“That was three years ago, Jim.”

“I know but I’ve always been curious.”

“It hurt like hell,” Bones replied, clad in a green and white cardigan sweater, his arm securely around the waist of yet another scantily clad stripper, pink fur bikini bottom with feathers placed over her bosom in the most strategic of places—why was it always a stripper? Bones regaled the girl with the tale of him fighting the knight. She squealed in admiration. “Yeah," Bones said, nervously, "we have to stop thinking about it, I don’t feel like becoming a Human shish kabob again.”

“Remember your large, white rabbit?” Jim teased.

“Dammit!” Bones turned back to his cabaret girl.

"I'm late, Bones," Jim added. "For a very important date. No time to say 'hello, goodbye', I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"

"Just keep it up. Think you're real funny, dontcha."

“Is your boss upsetting you?” the blond stripper asked Bones, as he nibbled on her neck.

“He's my commanding officer, Sweetheart. And...oh yeah,” McCoy cooed. “I need some comforting, real bad.”

Jim rolled his eyes at the disgusting, giggling, canoodling pair making out.

“Where’s Spock?” McCoy said, after he managed to come up for air.

“Take a good guess,” Jim said. Still on board ship, Spock had volunteered to command the skeleton crew. Volunteered. Jim had been disappointed to say the least. The party would have been even better, in his opinion, with the first officer around but that was Spock’s way, duty as always. Spock would probably have only been uncomfortable, waiting for the opportunity to leave. Perhaps it was best if Spock wasn’t here.

A few hours later, Jim was shaking his head to his crew coupled up with either someone they’d created--McCoy practically devouring the stripper, Yeoman Rand entertained by a handsome young man, Chapel talking to a guy who looked very much like a human version of Spock--or they were attached to another member of the crew: Chekov and Sulu kissing under the mistletoe (which was pretty damned adorable), Uhura and Scotty cosy in the corner. Oddly enough, Jim found himself the only loner at the gathering. He flipped open his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise.”

 _“Spock here.”_

“Status report, Mr. Spock.”

 _“Nothing to report, sir.”_

“Nothing?” Jim murmured intently. “Nothing at all?”

 _“Were you expecting something, Captain?”_

“No, no, just…if it’s that quiet upstairs,” Jim said, sighing, “Y’know I thought you could…beam down for a little bit…just for a few minutes. Maybe join me for a drink.”

 _“Captain you know fully well that Vulcans do not imbibe in alcohol. We do not see the--”_

“Logic. I know. There’s non-alcoholic drinks available, too, Mr. Spock. Water or hot cocoa...or....”

 _“Sir, the cocoa—”_

“I know, Spock. I know. Cocoa is also highly intoxicating to Vulcans. I said there’s water, too. Soft drinks. You can handle soft drinks, right?”

 _“Affirmative.”_

“We even had Vegan food at the dinner,” Jim went on. “Place settings very logically positioned. You would have liked that. Even Victorian carolers. Remember when we were on Aldus III and there were those Victorian Christmas Carolers and you liked the singing and Bones wouldn’t shut about it and kept kidding you for weeks afterward, till I had to threaten to place him on report?”

 _“Captain, are you drunk?”_

“No, no, no. I’m just…I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 _“You are not beaming back aboard?”_

“Not tonight. Thought I’d sleep in a comfortable bed for a change.”

 _“Of course, Sir.”_

“Sure you don’t want to beam down?”

 _“Affirmative.”_

Damn Spock and his formality.

“Alright. Acknowledged. Kirk out.” Jim snapped the communicator shut and walked up the wooden staircase to his appointed bedroom but not before calling out: "Get a room, Bones," to the doctor and the blonde stripper making out, earning him a middle finger behind the CMO's back.

He entered his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He immediately removed his civies, his snowman pullover, leaving it littered on the floor and took a long, hot steaming shower in the bathroom, a luxury they certainly didn’t have aboard the Enterprise.

A good hour or so later, he padded out in a towel, surveying the scene as he guiltily picked up his discarded clothing, laying it all on a chair. Just because he was on shore leave didn't mean he had to be a slob. The fire in the brick fireplace roared, the cherry wood floor was covered with a beautiful bearskin rug. A huge king sized, sumptuous bed took up most of the room. Romantic. Warm. Cozy. Everything he’d ever hoped for. Would even be better if—

“Okay,” Kirk said out loud, sitting down on the bed. “Everybody else got who they wanted tonight. It isn’t fair. I want someone too. I want…” He hesitated. “I want Spock. I want him here. I want him now. I want to fuck his Vulcan brains out. I mean… not literally fuck his brains out…I hope you know what I mean. Let me rephrase that. I want to make love to my first officer and have him want me back. At least for tonight. I know it’s not going to really be him but you’ll do a great job of making a copy.” His voice cracked a little on the: “Please.”

He buried his face in his hands.

Suddenly there was a soft knock on the door. He looked up. “Just a minute,” he called out. Shucking the towel and donning a robe, just in case it was in fact Bones or Scotty. Although he’d made a wish—it had to be what he asked for— and the guardians had to grant it. He had butterflies in his stomach as he opened it.

Spock (or actually the created simulcrum that looked exactly like Spock) stood on the other side of the door. Wearing a 'Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer' sweater complete with blinking red nose. Jim stared at it. “Jesus Christ.”

“No, just me.”

“Har, har, har,” Jim replied, grinning. “That sweater is…absolutely...fascinating.” It was in fact, really, really tacky. Took the proverbial cake.

“May I come in?”

Jim stepped back from the door. “Of course you may, you Vulcan devil you.”

The simul-Spock stepped into the bedroom. “Jim, I fail to understand this obsession of yours and the doctor’s with comparing me to the Earth Christian personification of evil.”

“God. You even sound just like him.”

The simul-Spock raised an eyebrow. “Of course.” The brown eyes, kept drifting to Jim’s robe, down to Jim’s bare legs and feet, back up again.

“Spock?”

“Jim.”

“Sit down.” Jim patted the bed next to him. Spock obediently sat. Of course he would. “Do you know why I called you here?”

“Yes.” Spock’s voice sounded breathy. “I do.”

Jim hesitated a moment, this would be an opportunity to get it all aired, get things out of his system. Tell the simul-Spock everything he held close to his heart for years, things he couldn't--wouldn't dare tell the real version. Perfect. The real Spock would only deliver that patented 'smug look' and remind the silly captain that as a Vulcan he lived a life ruled by controlling one's emotions and love was out of the question.

"Spock," Jim began. "I'm...I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? About what?"

Jim studied his shaking hands. "I need to tell you something."

"Please do."

Jim gulped. "I'm in..." Steady Jim. "I'm in love with you."

"In love with me?" Spock didn't seem at all insulted by this, at least Jim couldn't tell by the tone of his voice, actually he sounded rather intrigued, however this wasn't the real first officer sitting next to him.

"Yeah." Jim still couldn't look into those dark eyes he could feel boring into him. "I am. I have been. For some time. A long time, actually."

"I see."

Jim cleared his throat. "So, now you know."

"Indeed. Thank you, Jim. For having the courage to tell me."

"Uh...yes." There was silence for long moments. Jim studied the blinking red reindeer nose.

"Jim."

"Yes?"

"Look at me."

Jim finally looked up into his first officer's eyes. Spock reached over, tilted up Jim's chin with a single finger. Their lips met and it was electric. The kiss grew more passionate, their tongues meeting. Jim moaned. This was absolutely perfect. Beautiful. Jim pulled off that awful reindeer sweater, revealing the gorgeous hairy chest, something he usually only saw when they were working out in the gym, or when the Vulcan was on a biobed, injured in sickbay--before Bones usually shooed him away. Jim noted that even though Spock's slim fitting trousers were black they were non-regulation style, reaching the ankle, Spock had pared it with some delicate purple velvet slippers. Jim pulled off those gorgeous slippers. "Where'd you get these?"

"My mother," Spock replied. "She said one day I'd have a use for them."

This simul-Spock had a perfect answer for everything. Jim grinned and worked off Spock's trousers and underwear and his interesting extremely non-regulation argyle socks.

It was 'Spock's' first time with a man. Jim took the Vulcan's hard penis into his mouth, not stopping until the 'Vulcan' was gasping softly and coming down his throat. Everything felt so wonderful. Spock's skin. Felt so real. The scent. The taste of another. Those guardians were amazing. He was going to send a thank you message tomorrow. He carried on with his ministrations, rimming the first officer, listening to Spock's gorgeous bedroom sounds, then getting him ready for being penetrated, slowly working him up to it. Taking him when the time was right and not before then.

They wound up making love until dawn.

They lay tangled up in bed, until Spock tilted his head up. "Jim? Do you hear that?"

They got out of bed and went over to the window, staring out into the morning light. The Victorian Carolers were outside in the snow. Singing:

 _"Oh holy night,  
the stars are brightly shining.  
It is the night of the dear savior's birth._

 _Long lay the world in sin and error pining,  
'Til he appear'd and the soul felt its worth._

 _A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,  
For Yonder breaks a new and glorious morn..."_

Spock softly sang along with them in his deep baritone voice. Jim couldn't help himself, he was overwhelmed--tears ran down his face. It was so beautiful.

At least this wasn't the real Spock to witness him blubbering like an idiot.

Spock put an arm around him, held him close.

 _"Fall on your knees! O hear the angels' voices!  
O night divine, O night when christ was born;  
O night divine, O night, O night divine."_

The song ended. Spock placed a kiss on top of Jim's head. "Beloved, I must go."

"I know, Spock, I know." This wish had only been for the night. "Thank you. This meant a lot to me."

The simul-Spock went into the bathroom, took a quick shower. Jim sat on the bed. Spock exited the bathroom, swiftly donned his civilian clothing. He again tilted Jim's face up to his, kissing the lips very gently. Jim nodded at him and Spock went out the door.

Jim showered, dove into his clothes, went downstairs and made a fresh pot of coffee.

Shortly afterwards, Dr. McCoy also came stomping down the stairs, scowling. "Morning, Bones," Jim cheerfully called out to him.

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

"What? Why's that Bones? Because you're hung over?"

"No. That is not why." Bones came over and poured himself a cup of the strong, black coffee. "Wanna know why? That fucking rabbit you wouldn't shut up about. I was trying to get off with that stripper--and thanks to you I couldn't stop thinking about that goddamned rabbit. It actually knocked on my bedroom door telling me it was gonna be late...for a very important date. I told it to get lost go have a date with Jim down the hall. I went back to the stripper, closed my eyes, opened them and--"

"Let me guess, you found yourself fucking the rabbit."

"You're a disgusting pig, Jim. No. I was in a passionate embrace with the rabbit. I wasn't actually screwing the rabbit--what the hell's the matter with you?" McCoy wrinkled up his face in disgust. "Why are you so damned happy?"

"No reason." Jim took a swig of his own coffee.

"Did Spock find you last night?"

"Spock?" Jim flushed bright pink. "Uh no."

"He beamed down, looking for you. Goddawful reindeer sweater. Who the hell let him off ship looking like that?"

"No, no, Bones," Jim said. "That wasn't really him. That was a fantasy Spock. A simulated Spock."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Oh," Jim said. "Really?" Odd.

"Who'd want to make a fantasy Spock, anyway?" McCoy wondered.

*

Back aboard ship, Jim was in his quarters, at his desk. PADD in hand, he ran the ship's complement lists, double checking with First Officer Spock--the Vulcan working in his own quarters-- making sure that everyone had in fact beamed aboard. Mr. Spock had been the one to welcome the captain back aboard in his usual Spock way. Jim had silently congratulated himself on successfully managing to be 'business as usual', avoid blushing in front of the real Mr. Spock. Which reminded him. He hit the intercomn switch. "Uhura, open a channel to the planetary guardians."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Go ahead."

 _"Captain Kirk,"_ the guardian said, appearing on Jim's viewscreen. _"I trust everything went to your satisfaction?"_

"Absolutely," Kirk said. "Thank you so much."

 _"You are quite welcome. I am pleased your crew had a grand time."_

"We did. And...I'd also...uh...like to thank you on a personal note," Jim said. "My wish. That..." He chuckled ruefully. "It turned out perfect. Everything I ever wanted."

 _"Captain...about that wish. I am afraid that we...could not honor your request."_

"What do you mean?"

 _"We cannot create a fascimile of a member of your crew while the real version is physically present planetside. It is against our policy."_

"I don't mean to contradict you, but I made a wish, you delivered."

 _"No, Captain. That was not our doing."_

"I'm sorry, but It had to be. I asked for a night with my first officer, he appeared five minutes later. That couldn't have really been him," Jim protested.

 _"One moment, Captain. Let me make certain."_ The guardian leaned over and consulted with an associate for a few moments, then turned back to the screen. _"Captain? That was definately not our doing. Apparently when you made the wish, your first officer was already physically on the planet."_

*

Jim buzzed the door to his first officer's quarters. He heard 'come', the doors swooshed open and he darted in.

Spock was kneeling cross legged on his meditation stone, clad in his black robe. He looked up. "Jim?"

Jim strode directly into Spock's sleeping chamber, a man on a mission. He went over to the closet, sorting through the clothing. Dress uniform, a few black tee-shirts, black trousers, a couple blue velour tunics, regulation boots. Dammit. No reindeer sweater.

Spock was behind him. "Looking for something, Captain?"

Jim scowled. "No."

Just then he spotted the purple velvet slippers peaking out underneath Spock's bunk. He leaned down and picked one up, held it up to Spock. "Eureka."

Spock smirked, pulled open a drawer, offered him the offensive reindeer sweater. The nose was still blinking. It truly was horrendous.

"You!" Jim exclaimed. "But was it really you? It was consensual? Right? Or did they--?"

"That was me. I wanted it. I thought I would surprise you and beam down."

Jim brought his hands to his mouth. "Oh my God. My embarrassing confession. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I wish to continue this relationship with you...if you wish to have me."

"Of course I do. Why do you own this terrible sweater?"

"My mother, again. Thought it would be useful. Warm."

"It certain was useful," Jim agreed. He pulled the Vulcan towards him. "Come here. Beloved."

"Thy'la," Spock told him. "Friend, brother, lover. And Ashayam...my beloved."

Jim grinned and met the Vulcan's mouth once again.

_________  
fin


End file.
